


ghost from my past

by TheDragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26963590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragon/pseuds/TheDragon
Summary: The memory of Merlin haunts him day and night.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 156
Collections: Tavernfest Round 1: Ghosts and Hauntings





	ghost from my past

**Author's Note:**

> Wooo I finally finished this! Thanks so much to my beta for giving this a once over before I unleashed it upon the world!
> 
> Written for Tavernfest Round 1: Ghosts and Hauntings.

1

It’s just Arthur’s luck that the one time he decides to walk home from work, it starts raining within five minutes of him leaving the building. Having lived in Camelot for most of his life, he should be used to it by now—the weather is never nice for long—but he’s already had an unfairly depressing day, and the rain pelting his face is yet another kick in the proverbial bollocks.

When did he get so used to travelling by car that he forgot about the importance of always having an umbrella on hand?

He's sorely tempted to duck into a store or café to find some cover, but according to the weather forecast, the rain is expected to break into an all-out storm within the next few hours. It would be better for him to get home as quickly as possible rather than run the risk of getting caught up in _that_.

After swiping a hand through his hair to push his wet fringe away from his eyes, Arthur pulls his coat around himself more tightly. It may be spring, but it's a bit chilly out—with his luck, he’ll probably end up with a cold after this particular escapade. He's soaked to the bone despite the supposedly rain-resistant coat; Arthur shivers when the water starts trickling past his collar and down his spine.

There are two paths he can take to get back home. One is his regular route, through streets upon streets of buildings, no greenery in sight.

The other is a shortcut through a park. More precisely, through his and Merlin's park.

Arthur grits his teeth and shuts his eyes tightly, trying to clear any and all thoughts of Merlin. It won't do to go down that rabbit hole again. He won't let himself be haunted by the memory of someone who betrayed him so.

In the end, he decides to make for the longer path. Apparently, the universe must have something against that decision because the second he makes it, the rain starts coming down even harder.

"Fuck," Arthur curses under his breath. The park it is. He turns on his heel and crosses the street, barely lifting his gaze from the pavement for long enough to make sure there are no cars nearing the crossing. The gate to the park is just past it; he enters it quickly, making sure to walk beneath the trees in the hopes that they will supply him with some modicum of protection from the unforgiving rain.

Without him realising, Arthur's feet take him down one particular, all too familiar path. _Their_ path, his and Merlin's. The one they used to take whenever they walked through here because Merlin claimed that it supplied the best views and most colourful flowers. It's too early for them to be in bloom yet, but Arthur finds his gaze wandering towards them all the same, trying his best to ignore the memory of Merlin's hand in his own.

It works until it doesn't. It works until he reaches a particular bench in the park placed on this particular path, the sight of which has Arthur coming to an abrupt stop. He can almost see Merlin sitting on that bench, book in hand, like he had when they'd first met, Merlin looking up and catching his eye, Merlin smiling at him.

Arthur is hit with a wave of longing so fierce that it almost knocks him over. Immediately, the memory changes. It's no longer their first meeting he sees, but rather the first time they kissed.

He pretends the tears that flow from his eyes are nothing more than rain water and forces his feet to start moving again, to take him back to his flat where he can take a warm shower and block out the rest of the world until tomorrow.

_______________

_"Arthur!" Merlin calls out when he catches sight of him. The smile he directs towards Arthur is contagious; despite his foul mood, he finds himself grinning back._

_"Merlin," Arthur greets. He stiffly holds out a hand, but instead of shaking it, Merlin pulls him into a hug. Arthur folds into it easily and breathes in Merlin's scent, the sharp spiciness of his cologne. Without meaning to, he presses further into Merlin and buries his face in the crook of Merlin's neck._

_"You all right?" Merlin asks after a while, slowly trailing one hand down Arthur's back._

_"All the better for seeing you," Arthur replies honestly, finally pulling away. Merlin places his hands on Arthur's shoulders and looks at him searchingly. The smile on Arthur's face must tell him all he needs to know because he nods his head once, then grasps one of Arthur's hands in his own._

_"I was thinking we could go for a walk today. Through the park," he says, tugging Arthur along. It's still cold enough that there are few people around, which Arthur appreciates. After the day he's had, he could use some privacy._

_He’s spent the last few days looking forward to seeing Merlin again. It’s only their fifth date today, but never before has he met someone he gets along with so well. Merlin is easy to talk to, and considering talking has never been one of Arthur's strong suits, that’s saying something. He's always been more a man of action rather than words, yet when he's with Merlin, he finds that they flow freely from his lips._

_Merlin's chatter fills the silence as they walk. He talks about anything and everything: the cat his friend recently adopted that he's convinced is a demon in disguise, how his day went at work, how he was watching a film the other day and he wants Arthur to watch it with him because Merlin is convinced he'll love it._

_Arthur... he doesn't tune Merlin out, not exactly. He listens to every word Merlin says, but rarely replies with more than a nod or shake of the head. At one point, Merlin eyes him curiously but he doesn't press, not yet. Instead, he pulls Arthur to the side, directing him towards the bench._

_"I thought maybe we could sit here and watch the sun set," Merlin says, smiling at him crookedly. "Then maybe we could go grab a coffee? Maybe get something to eat?"_

_Again, Arthur nods. He lets go of Merlin's hand when they move to sit down, but once they're seated, Merlin slides closer to him and carefully places a hand on his knee, watching closely for Arthur’s reaction. The heat of his skin can be felt through Arthur's trousers; he finds himself subconsciously pressing closer to Merlin, seeking his touch._

_"You can tell me anything, you know," Merlin eventually says, fixing his gaze upon the hand atop Arthur's knee. "I know we haven't known each other that long, but I feel like I've known you forever."_

_"I feel the same way," Arthur replies. Hesitantly, he places his own hand over Merlin's and curls his fingers into the spaces between Merlin's own._

_"Something is bothering you," Merlin says, his brow furrowed in concern._

_For his entire life, Arthur was taught to keep his emotions in check. No one was allowed to see him less than perfect. The world couldn't know that the Pendragons could feel anger or sadness or fear like everyone else. His father raised him to be an example, a potential leader, someone people would be able to look up to in face of adversity._

_And a leader has to be without fault._

_Sometimes, all the pent up frustration makes Arthur feel as though he’s about to explode._

_"I had a bad day at work," Arthur tells him, surprised to find himself actually saying something. "I... I suppose it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it hit a bit harder today."_

_Merlin hums. "Do you want to talk about it?"_

_"I wouldn't know where to begin." Arthur snorts, but those words somehow manage to open the floodgates. "It's a little bit of everything. I was in a meeting and people were asking me all sorts of invasive questions about my life. And I... I know that my father is a public figure—that I'm a public figure, but there are boundaries! I said as much to the reporter, albeit with a few choice words thrown in. I’ll admit it wasn't my best moment."_

_"I'm sorry," Merlin says, leaning his head to the side and placing it on Arthur's shoulder. "That sounds horrible."_

_"I should be used to it by now," Arthur says, gritting his teeth. He doesn’t usually let things like this get to him. Why is today so different?_

_"That doesn't make it any less horrible."_

_"I suppose," Arthur says noncommittally. "What I said got me into an argument with my father, and let's just say that his temper is far worse than mine."_

_He won’t repeat what his father said to him. If he could, he’d wipe the words from his memory. It hurts, the knowledge that his father considers him a disappointment._

_Merlin must sense that something is amiss, as he turns his head to the side and looks up at Arthur through his lashes._

_"For the record," Merlin says, directing a soft smile at him, "I think you're wonderful."_

_Hearing the words has all of the day's tension receding. Arthur turns his head to the side and gently pushes Merlin back. Before Merlin can do so much as raise an eyebrow, Arthur places his free hand on the side of Merlin's face and leans in to kiss him._

_It isn't his first time doing this, but for some reason, it feels different. He can't help but to feel as though it has something to do with the fact that never before has he kissed someone he is actually falling in love with._

_Merlin responds to the kiss eagerly. One of his hands finds its way into Arthur's hair and pushes them closer together; the other is trapped within Arthur's own, pressed against Arthur's beating heart. When Merlin deepens the kiss, Arthur licks into his mouth, pulling a strangled moan from him._

_Somehow, Merlin winds up on Arthur's lap, his arms wound around the back of Arthur's neck. Arthur, in turn, keeps one of his hands on Merlin's hip and the other slowly travelling up his back to wind into Merlin's thick, black hair. Tugging on it makes Merlin shudder, so Arthur does it again and again, until Merlin melts into him, entirely boneless._

_Arthur laughs softly when they separate and leans his forehead against Merlin's. Stroking his thumb over Merlin's hip bone, Arthur patiently waits for him to get himself together and open his eyes._

_When he does, there's a slight, golden tinge to them, courtesy to setting sun. It only makes Merlin look all the more enchanting. Sitting here, on Arthur's lap with his kiss-swollen lips and hair in disarray, Arthur thinks Merlin might just be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen._

_"So..." Arthur says with a grin once they've both managed to catch their breaths._

_"So..." Merlin repeats with a laugh of his own. "I live not far from here. Do you want to come over so we can do some more of that?"_

2

Watching films has always been one of Arthur's favourite ways to unwind after a long day. It's the main reason he invested in such a large telly and expensive sound system. The screen takes up a large part of the wall across from the sofa in his sitting room, leaving little room for any wall decorations, but he doesn’t mind.

The first thing Arthur does when he gets back to his flat is change into more comfortable clothes. Suits are all well and good while he's at work, but if he doesn't absolutely _have_ to wear them, he won't. He's much more appreciative of the mobility a pair of sweats and a T-shirt allow him.

Once he's made his way back to the sitting room, he goes to pick a film at random from his not-so-secret collection of romantic comedies. Having grabbed the remote from the coffee table, Arthur lies down on the sofa and presses the ‘play’ button when the title screen appears.

It's not until he's five minutes into the film that he realises the last time he watched this, it was with Merlin snuggled up against him on this same sofa. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel Merlin's warm weight against him, hear the comments Merlin whispered into his ears.

When he opens them again, it's to the sight of a cold, empty room.

_______________

" _He's actually a very misunderstood character, you know," Merlin says from where he's wedged himself in between Arthur and the sofa. His breath tickles Arthur's neck._

_"Is he?" Arthur asks, not taking his eyes off the screen in front of them. He reaches out to grab a handful of popcorn, only to spill most of it onto the floor when Merlin suddenly moves and props himself up on his elbow._

_"Yes! Most people think he's just this awful human being who wants nothing more than to cause mayhem and keep his daughter away from her fiancé, but..."_

_Arthur lets the world go distant, losing himself in the sound of Merlin's voice. When Merlin gets like this, he can go on and on, and listening to him is often more of a pleasure than watching the film. The sound of his voice, especially when it gets all rough and gravelly, does_ things _to Arthur._

_Things that are not at all being helped by the fact that Merlin is currently snuggled up behind him, his cock pressing into Arthur's arse. After a split second of hesitation, Arthur presses back against it and waits for Merlin to notice._

_Which Merlin doesn't, too busy going off on a tangent. Annoyed about the lack of attention being paid to him, Arthur detangles one hand from the blanket they're wrapped in and slowly slides it over their bodies until it settles on Merlin’s arse._

That _shuts him up immediately._

_"Arthur?" Merlin asks, looking down at him with his eyes wide open. Arthur raises an eyebrow in return, then turns around to wipe that confused expression off Merlin's face._

_"I've thought of something we could do instead of watching a film," Arthur says. He moves them so that Merlin is lying on his back with Arthur sitting astride his thighs. The blanket lands on the floor, far out of the way._

_Arthur puts his hands on Merlin's belt and looks up at Merlin's face. When Merlin nods, he undoes the clasp, then moves on to the button and zipper of Merlin's jeans. All throughout, Merlin looks at him with a half-smile and a fond sparkle in his eye. It makes Arthur want to kiss him again._

_And, well, there isn't anything stopping him, so he does. Repeatedly._

_Thankfully, Merlin manages to slide his trousers and pants down by himself, never once stopping the movement of his own lips. How is it that his clumsiness fades away when it comes to sex? Not that Arthur is complaining, mind. He helpfully lifts himself up when Merlin tries to wriggle Arthur's own trousers off._

_Nothing—_ nothing _—could ever compare to the sensation of Merlin's fingers wrapping around his hardening cock._

3

Arthur's laundry had been piling up these past few weeks. He used to do it regularly, but the despondency he's been feeling lately has been so great that he couldn't bring himself to sort it out. The only reason he's lugging the basket out from under the sink _now_ is because he's slowly but surely running out of clothes to wear. He’s tempted to simply go out and buy more, but taking his mind off the problem won't make it disappear and he'd only end up up to his nose in dirty clothes.

The suits he dropped off at the cleaners on the way back home from work. All that’s left is the stuff in the laundry basket and cardboard box, because as it turns out, a month and a half's worth of dirty laundry takes up a _lot_ of space.

With a resigned sigh, Arthur opens the box and spills the clothes out onto the floor in front of the washing machine, where they are soon joined by the ones in the laundry basket. Not all that long ago, he used to toss all his clothes into the machine at the same time, but then. Well. Mer—

In any case, Arthur has since learned that it's oftentimes better to separate the whites from the colours. Just in case a raggedy red T-shirt decides to go ahead and dye all his whites pink again.

When his eyes land on a red scarf half-buried underneath a hoodie, Arthur’s breath catches in his throat. He reaches for it with trembling fingers.

The material is just as soft as he remembers, the colour just as vivid. There's a little dragon stitched onto one of the ends, resplendently golden against the red background.

Merlin must not have realised he'd left it when he moved out.

 _Or maybe he did_ , Arthur's traitorous brain supplies. _Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing leaving this behind. Maybe he knew how much it would hurt you to find it._

Arthur shakes his head to banish that thought from it. Merlin is a lot of things, but he isn't cruel. He loves this scarf, has since the moment Arthur gave it to him. It would be a stretch to assume he left it here on purpose.

Caressing the material with his thumb, Arthur grits his teeth. What's he supposed to do with it now?

_______________

_"For me?" Merlin asks, eyeing Arthur suspiciously. "You were out buying a present for me?"_

_"Do try to keep up, Merlin," Arthur says, handing over the gift wrapped box. As tempted as he was to have the packing done by a professional, he figured it would mean more to Merlin if Arthur attempted to do it himself. And so here it is, in all its glory—crinkled (and a bit torn) wrapping paper, topped off with an off-centre bow._

_...It isn’t his best work._

_Merlin takes the box from him slowly, as if expecting Arthur to snatch it away any second. He pointedly ignores Arthur's raised eyebrows._

_"Well, go on then," Arthur urges once the box is safely in Merlin's hands._

_"...What's in it?" Merlin asks, narrowing his eyes. "You've never given me a gift before."_

_"Open it and you'll find out."_

_Hesitantly, Merlin does as he's told. He unties the ribbon and carefully removes the tape from the wrapping paper. The process takes him so long that Arthur is halfway tempted to take the box away from him and open it himself._

_He doesn't do it in the end, instead occupying himself with keeping a tight rein on his steadily growing impatience and ignoring the nervous beating of his heart, because what if Merlin doesn't like it? He might think it's silly for Arthur to give him something like this, but when Arthur saw it at the shop, his thoughts immediately went to Merlin, and well..._

_Here he is. Here_ it _is, all wrapped up and everything._

_Arthur's pulse skyrockets when Merlin finally opens the box. He puts it down on the table and takes out the cashmere scarf Arthur had so carefully folded and placed inside. Merlin doesn't say anything for the longest time, seemingly content to look at it and run his fingers along the material._

_"Well?" Arthur eventually asks once he deems the silence has gone on for long enough._

_He isn't prepared for Merlin to look up at him, his eyes bright with unshed tears. Arthur panics and reaches out for him, but he doesn't dare to actually touch Merlin in case he makes the situation any worse ._

_"Merlin?" he asks, willing his voice not to shake. "Are you—"_

_"I love it," Merlin interrupts, smiling at him. "It's... I love it."_

_The sound of Merlin's soft laughter chases away any worry that might remain._

_"I saw it and thought of you," Arthur confesses, ignoring the lump that appears in his throat whenever he talks about anything resembling emotions. "You're always going on and on about how cold you are, and, well, those other scarves you wear are a bit on the ratty side, so when I saw this in the store I—"_

_Merlin shuts him up with a kiss, completely turning the tables on him. Arthur lets out an indignant squawk at being interrupted yet again, but he allows Merlin to manhandle him onto the table and winds his arms around Merlin's shoulders._

_"I love it," Merlin says for a third time, situating himself in between Arthur's legs. "I love_ you _."_

_And yes—this warm, hopeful feeling fluttering about in his chest really does feel a lot like love._

4

The whiskey is gone.

Arthur could have sworn he'd only just started drinking it, but the empty bottle in his hand begs to differ.

He's... he doesn't even know why he's doing this to himself. Looking through the gallery on his phone was a bad idea. Seeing Merlin's face—all smiles and dimples and that sparkle in his eyes... It's such a drastic difference from how Merlin looked when Arthur saw him last.

Terrified. Anguished. _Heartbroken_.

Arthur shakes his head to banish the image of Merlin from it. Turning onto his side, he slowly stumbles to his feet and lets the items he's holding fall from his hands. He doesn't care about the bottle shattering against the bathroom tiles, and he can always get a new phone.

What he needs right now is to get his hands on more alcohol.

The flat spins as he walks through it, doors and windows and furniture all doubling and going out of their way to trip him up. Keeping one hand on the wall, Arthur slowly makes his way to the kitchen. He thinks he stubs a toe during the journey, but he's too drunk to feel it.

The door to the fridge swings open quicker than he anticipated; Arthur goes stumbling to the side along with it and almost bashes his head into a cabinet. He blinks a few times, disoriented, then slowly moves toward the fridge again. There has to be some alcohol in there; he's sure he bought beer when he last went grocery shopping and he doesn't remember drinking it, so it should, in theory, still be in the fridge.

He doesn't find the beer. Instead, once he's pushed all the food to the side, he finds a bottle of champagne.

The one he and Merlin bought not a month before their break up.

Heart clenching in his chest, Arthur reaches for the bottle and pulls it out of the fridge. It's unopened with the bow still tied around the neck. Hesitantly, Arthur takes hold of one end of the ribbon, but he doesn't pull on it.

He can't bring himself to pull on it and undo the bow. Just the idea of doing so, of opening this bottle of champagne Merlin had bought for a special occasion despite absolutely _hating_ the taste of it, seems _wrong_. So very _wrong_. He's. He can't open this. He _can't_ , no matter how much he wants to drown his sorrows in alcohol.

Arthur's knees hurt when they slam into the floor tile, the bottle held safely against his chest. There are so few things he has left of Merlin—he knows, _he knows_ it's his own fault, because _he's_ the one that broke both their hearts and made Merlin leave—and Arthur can't bring himself to get rid of this one.

For the first time since he was a child, Arthur allows himself to cry.

_______________

_"Why do we even need champagne?" Arthur asks, looking at Merlin with what he hopes is an expression of impatience. In reality, he probably looks like the love-struck fool Morgana is always accusing him of being._

_"You never know when there's going to be cause for celebration," Merlin replies easily, directing one of his beaming smiles towards Arthur._

_Damn him. He knows that Arthur can't say no to that smile._

_"You don't even like champagne," Arthur tries again, though he's besotted enough to admit that it's already a lost cause._

_"But you do, and this is your favourite brand. I can put myself through drinking it for your sake."_

_"Planning a celebration, are you?" Arthur asks with a snort. Merlin's grin widens and he turns back to the selection of alcohol before him, but not before Arthur catches him darting a look at his hand._

_"Maybe I am," Merlin says, almost too softly for Arthur to hear._

_The pounding of blood in his ears makes Arthur miss whatever Merlin says next._

5

"Arthur! You made it!"

The voice startles Arthur, tearing him from his thoughts. When he sees who it is that's walked up behind him, he forces a smile to his lips.

"Sophia," he greets, doing his utmost best to keep the smile from being replaced by a scowl. "I'm glad to see you here."

He isn't.

In truth, he isn't glad to be here at all. If he’d realised sooner which restaurant this event would be taking place at, Arthur would never have agreed to come in the first place.

It's a high-end restaurant, one of the best and most expensive in Camelot. Everything about it is lavish, from the elegantly styled interior to the carved wooden furniture inside. The flooring is marble and covered in rich, red rugs that match the colour of the chair seats. The walls are wood panelled and the same dark brown as the furniture. The chandeliers and decorations—

Well, it's all very luxurious—nothing Arthur isn’t used to.

He follows Sophia through the restaurant to where a group of people have already gathered. He's greeted with wide grins and handshakes and even one pat on the back from a colleague who’s name Arthur can’t remember.

Through it all, Arthur thinks of the last time he was here, in this particular restaurant.. With Merlin, on the day of their second anniversary.

It looks exactly the same. Even the time of day is the same, if the lighting coming in through the high windows is anything to go by. The candles, the atmosphere of the place... God, he can almost smell Merlin's cologne in the air, feel the way their fingers were intertwined under the table as they fed each other desserts.

See the way the candlelight tinted Merlin's eyes with the barest hint of gold—though knowing what he now knows, Arthur wonders whether it truly was candlelight and not something far more sinister.

Something more _magical_.

Arthur lifts one hand to his eyes and shuts them so tightly that they begin to hurt. Once he's taken a deep breath to steady himself, he opens them again and tries to focus on the conversation taking place.

When he finally sits down to eat, he realises that the table he and Merlin sat at is right next to him. It breaks his heart all over again.

The break up was a mistake.

_______________

_"It's too ostentatious!"_

_"It's a perfectly nice restaurant!" Arthur exclaims, trying to keep the laughter from his voice upon seeing Merlin's horrified expression. "You wanted something more upscale, and here it is!"_

_"But I—" Merlin breaks off, looking around the restaurant in alarm. "This isn't what I meant! I wanted something_ a bit _nicer than the ones I normally make you eat at._ A bit _, Arthur!"_

_It's a wasted effort—the laughter bubbles up in Arthur's chest anyway, and he finds himself at the receiving end of Merlin's indignant stare._

_"Oh, I should have known," Merlin says, covering his face with his hands. "You did this on purpose, didn't you?"_

_"I didn't!" Arthur says, putting a hand on his heart and pretending to be hurt by the accusation. Merlin raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms in front of his chest, and Arthur immediately deflates. "All right, I did. But if you really think about it, it's your fault for not specifying price brackets."_

_On second thought, maybe he should stop talking. Merlin is starting to look a bit like he wants to throttle him, fingers twitching in Arthur's direction._

_"I'll get you back for this," Merlin promises, eyes darkening. "Just you wait until we get back home."_

_That is the moment the maître d' chooses to materialise; Arthur is so focused on Merlin that he startles at her sudden appearance. He ignores Merlin’s amused snort._

_"Reservation for two under the name 'Pendragon'," Arthur says, turning towards her. With one last huff, Merlin does the same._

_"Please follow me."_

_Shooting one last amused grin at Merlin, Arthur does as he is bid. They follow the maître d' through the expansive rooms until they end up at a semi-secluded table._

_"The server will be with you shortly."_

_Arthur pulls out Merlin's chair and tilts his head in its direction. Merlin rolls his eyes, but he can't seem to keep a fond smile from rising to his lips at the display._

_"Arse," he says, sitting down and letting Arthur push the chair forward._

_"Your arse," Arthur says, leaning down and whispering the words into Merlin's ear._

_"Yes, well, luck of the draw and all. Someone had to be unfortunate enough to get saddled with you."_

_Just for that, Arthur flicks Merlin's ear, chuckling when Merlin brings his hand up to it and looks at Arthur as though he has committed a grievous offence. It almost makes Arthur feel sorry._

_Almost._

_The conversation flows easily, as it always does with Merlin. They spend their meal talking about what's been going on at work, in their families, in their own lives. In that regard, it's just like the meals they have at home; the main difference is the muted chatter of the other restaurant-goers and the delicious food._

_And yet, Arthur can't help but to notice that Merlin seems a bit nervous for some reason. His eyes keep darting from Arthur's hands to his food and his face. More than once, he reaches out to pat the breast pocket of his suit. He's... He seems a bit off, but Arthur can't quite put his finger on why that could be, so he keeps talking in an effort to diffuse the growing tension._

_That's where everything goes wrong._

_"My father is going to be working to implement more restrictions against magic users," he says, cutting into his steak._

_Merlin looks up at him in shock, his fork falling from his hand and onto the table with a soft clang. He swallows down the food he has in his mouth, then licks his lips. His skin has gone at least three shades paler, and Arthur is fairly certain that Merlin's hands are trembling._

_"What?" Merlin asks, sounding as though he can barely get the words past his lips. Arthur furrows his eyebrows in concern._

_"Restrictions. Against magic," he says slowly so that Merlin can catch every word. "Sorcerers have been wreaking havoc on the country for far too long, and the political climate has slowly been changing for the better. My father will finally be able to muster up the support needed to put new laws in effect, for all of our safety."_

_"I don't. I don't understand," Merlin says, blinking rapidly. His eyes are beginning to look weirdly bright despite the dimming light. "I thought you didn't agree with your father on matters of politics."_

_"Not in most respects, no," Arthur confirms. "But on this one, we are in steadfast agreement. No one should have access to such unnatural, dangerous powers. It's all for the better."_

_"Oh," Merlin says, looking back down at his food. "_ Oh _."_

_The conversation stops flowing easily after that._

+1

The last thing Arthur expects to happen on this gloomy Saturday afternoon is to bump into Merlin in the doorway of his— _their_ —favourite café.

"Merlin?" Arthur says, the name barely making a sound as it leaves his lips. He hasn't seen Merlin in months, hasn't heard from him at all—not that that's much of a surprise considering how things ended between them. Having Merlin standing before him makes his heart ache something fierce.

Merlin looks... well, no better than Arthur himself, to be honest. Neither of them are at their best right now, and it shows in how deep the shadows under Merlin's eyes are. Arthur has never seen him with so much scruff on his face before. Merlin leans away from him, and the rush of air brings with it the scent of Merlin's cologne, and Arthur suddenly finds himself full of pure _want_.

He’d love nothing more than to wrap his arms around Merlin and never let him go again. It's a realisation he's been slowly coming to over the course of their separation, but seeing Merlin standing before him makes it all the more pronounced.

Merlin blinks at him once, then again before shaking his head and moving to push past Arthur. He doesn't expect the sheer _panic_ he feels at the thought of never getting to see Merlin again. These past few months were some of the loneliest in his life; he felt as though Merlin was haunting him at every turn. Seeing him here, now, _alive_ and _real_ rather than a memory...

"Merlin," Arthur says, fighting not to reach out because he knows his touch would be unwelcome.

He… He can fix this, can’t he? As long as Merlin is willing to talk to him, to... to give him the time of day, there's still time to _fix this._ For the both of them.

Assuming Merlin still wants anything to do with him.

“Can we talk?” Arthur asks, licking his lips nervously. His hands are shaking where they’re gripping the cloth of his trousers. When Merlin looks at him again, his stare is warier than Arthur has ever seen it to be. Suddenly terrified that Merlin is going to reject his plea, Arthur adds, “ _Please_.”

The wariness doesn’t fade from Merlin’s eyes, but hearing Arthur say the one word he _never_ says has Merlin freezing. With an exhausted sigh, he tilts his head to bid Arthur to follow after him and starts walking in the direction of the nearby park.

 _Their_ park.

Arthur follows. They walk in silence for a bit, with Arthur keeping a step behind. It grows more uncomfortable by the second, but none of them dare to break it, not until they’re both sitting on a bench in the park— _their bench_ —side by side, though with a metre of space between them. Arthur aches to move closer, but he holds back. Merlin probably doesn’t want Arthur anywhere near him.

“What do you want?” Merlin asks, keeping his gaze fixed on a distant flowerbed. His voice is rough, and not in the good way. It’s rough like the voice of someone who has spent the last weeks sobbing their heart out, and it’s all Arthur’s fault.

“I—” Arthur begins, but quickly breaks off. He didn’t think this far ahead, didn’t come up with what he could— _should_ —say to Merlin. An apology wouldn’t be nearly enough for all the pain he caused, but Merlin deserves one. And an explanation. He didn’t get much of one when they broke up.

Merlin deserves to know the truth.

“If you don’t have anything to say, you might as well leave,” Merlin bites out, curling in on himself just that slightest bit. He’s still adamantly keeping his eyes away from Arthur, which hurts so much more than Arthur thought it could.

“I still love you,” he says, hesitantly reaching his hand out towards Merlin. The reaction his words get is not unexpected, but still agonising.

Merlin stands up and whirls around to face him, towering over Arthur. The expression on his face is one of pure rage. Arthur can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Merlin this angry; he never thought he could be the one to bring about such fury.

“Fuck. You,” Merlin says, voice deathly quiet, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Do you think that makes this any better? You broke up with me, Arthur. _You_ broke up with _me_. And now you—what?—see me and get around to wondering, _Hmmm,_ _how about we make Merlin feel worse than he already does? Put the final nail in the coffin_.”

Arthur shoots to his feet, almost banging his head against Merlin’s.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, holding out his hands placatingly. “I just—”

“You just what?” Merlin demands. “What more do you want from me, Arthur? Haven’t you already done enough?!”

“I wanted to apologise,” Arthur says quietly, keeping his gaze on Merlin’s chest. He's never liked seeing Merlin angry, and having that rage directed at him makes it all the worse. "And explain, if you'll let me. _Please_ ," he adds desperately, because it worked so well the last time.

Merlin looks to the gate leading into the park. For a moment, Arthur is terrified he's going to leave without another word, but after another moment of silence, Merlin's shoulders drop from where they've risen up to his ears and he nods his head, the movement jerky. Arthur breathes out a sigh of relief.

"I didn't tell you because I wanted to make you feel worse," he says, finally meeting Merlin's gaze. "I said it because I mean it. I said it because I'm hoping I can convince you to take me back."

His words are met with a deafening silence. The only thing Arthur can hear is the too-quick beating of his own heart.

"Talk," Merlin eventually says, turning around and sitting back down. Hesitantly, Arthur does the same.

"I've spent every moment of these last few months regretting everything I said. Regretting the break up." Arthur runs a shaky hand through his hair. "If I could go back in time, I would take it all back, every last word. I didn't mean what I said to you. I'm... I'm not at my best when emotions are running high. When I found out about the magic, it felt like a betrayal. All my life, I was raised to believe it was evil, and seeing you wielding it sent me over the edge. I haven't the words to tell you just how sorry I am."

_______________

_The sight that greets him when he walks into the flat is not one Arthur ever expected to find. Merlin must not have heard him come in, because there is no way he would have allowed Arthur to catch sight of what went on in their flat in his absence._

_Merlin is sitting in an armchair in the corner of their bedroom, book in hand and glasses perched on the tip of his nose. The floor lamp positioned next to the armchair is off, and considering how late in the evening it is, the whole room should have been bathed in darkness._

_Instead, it's lit up by a small blue ball of light that hovers right above Merlin's head._

_And that isn't even the worst of it. Their bed is making itself, the sheets flapping about in the air before settling on the mattress and smoothing themselves out. The pillows fluff themselves up as Arthur watches._

_He's almost hit in the face by a pair of trousers that flies past him, headed for their dresser. Four of Merlin's T-shirts fold themselves in mid-air before landing on the bed in a neat stack that soon follows the way of the trousers._

_The sight of it all makes Arthur's head spin; he grabs the door with one hand, hoping that his grip on it will keep him from collapsing._

Betrayal _, every little part of him seems to chant._ Betrayal. He's betrayed you. He's one of them.

_"What is this?" Arthur asks, forcing the words past his lips. The sound of them startles Merlin, who looks up at him with wide eyes. Instantly, all of the magic ceases: the bed stops making itself, the clothes drop onto the floor, and the little light blinks out of existence._

_With a shaking hand, Arthur reaches for the light switch. He can't do this in the dark, can't have this conversation without being able to see Merlin's face. Can't confront his lies without being able to put a face to them._

_"You've been lying to me this whole time!" Arthur shouts the second the lights are back on, unable to suppress his anger for any longer. "I trusted you!"_

_Merlin flinches; it's so subtle that Arthur wouldn't even have noticed had he not been looking at him so intently, his upbringing having taught him to never take his eyes off a sorcerer. You never know what curse they may cast upon you the second you turn your back._

_Merlin purses his lips and shrinks in on himself, the book dropping to the floor at his feet. Arthur opens his mouth to say more, but that's the moment Merlin decides to stand up and look him straight in the eyes. The intensity of his stare has Arthur taking a step back. He can't help the rush of vicious satisfaction that courses through his face when Merlin's expression goes pinched with hurt._

_"I haven't been lying to you," Merlin says, still and deathly quiet. He holds up his hands placatingly while taking a few more steps towards Arthur, approaching him as though he's a startled animal._

_Arthur tightens his grip on the doorknob and does his best to keep himself from slamming the door into Merlin's face._

_"What do you call this, then?" Arthur waves his free hand around the bedroom, eyes darting from Merlin to the bed to the clothes, then back to Merlin. Merlin, for his part, is beginning to look the slightest bit panicked._

_Good._

_"I..." Merlin trails off, looking at him helplessly. His arms fall back to his chest; Arthur fights not to flinch at the movement. "I just haven't told you everything about me, is all."_

_It's a weak defence, and the both of them know it._

_"We've been together for well over two years," Arthur says, his voice raising with every word until he's practically shouting at Merlin. "We've been together for over two years," he repeats, this time quietly. "And you've never once thought to mention that you can— That you're—"_

One of them _, he doesn't say. But Merlin seems to get his meaning anyway._

_"And when was I supposed to tell you?" Merlin bristles. "How?! When all throughout our relationship, you kept going on and on about how horrible magic users are, how they need to be controlled, locked up, kept away from polite society so that they didn't spread their evil wherever they went?!"_

_"I never—"_

_"You did!" Merlin insists. "Maybe not in those exact words, but you did! And more than that, you've supported every single law that has been passed discriminating against people like me!"_

_"Discriminating?! We're trying to keep people safe! How is that discriminating?!"_

_"If your father had his way— if_ you _had_ your _way, I'd be locked away in an institution and poked at and prodded until your scientists found out what it is that makes me tick! I'd never be allowed to lead a normal life! How, exactly, do you expect me to have told you?!"_

_"Then why did you go out with me at all?" Arthur asks, slamming his clenched fist into the wall. "If you knew how I felt about magic, then why did you want to see me again?!"_

_"I had no idea who you were, you absolute arse!" Merlin says, looking as though he's on the verge of tears. "I didn't realise until after. We didn't talk about politics and magic until who knows when, and by that time I'd already made the stupid mistake of falling for you!"_

_"Stupid, was it?" Arthur sneers, eyes tracking the lone tear that's making its way down one of Merlin's cheeks. He freezes as a horribly frightening thought occurs to him. "Did I actually fall in love with you? Or is this whole relationship based on you manipulating my feelings?!”_

_His words startle Merlin into silence. The sheer anguish on his face almost makes Arthur want to take them back._

_He doesn't._

_"How can you say that?" Merlin asks in a pained whisper. "How can you accuse me of doing such a thing?"_

_"Because apparently, I never really knew you at all," Arthur bites back. "How am I to know my feelings for you aren't caused by a spell you cast on me? Is that why you kept this from me? So that I'd never find out we were a lie?!"_

_Tears are flowing down Merlin's cheeks, unimpeded. Had it been any other day, any other situation, Arthur would have reached out to comfort him. But here, now, he finds that he really doesn't care._

_Maybe the guilt will come later. Maybe it won't._

_"You don't mean that," Merlin says, his voice wavering with uncertainty._

_"I do," Arthur says viciously, watching as Merlin ducks his head and clenches his fists by his sides. "And I want you out of here. I never want to have to see your face again!"_

_The following day, while he is at work, every last trace of Merlin vanishes from the flat and Arthur is left all alone._

_______________

When Arthur finishes speaking, Merlin leans forward and puts his head in his hands.

"It hurt," Merlin whispers, winding his fingers through his hair. "When you accused me of using my magic to make you fall in love with me. It hurt like nothing else."

Merlin flinches when Arthur puts his hand on his shoulder. Arthur immediately pulls back, but before he can get his hand back to his side, Merlin catches it in one of his own. The touch is electrifying.

Hesitantly, Arthur intertwines their fingers.

"I'm sorry," he says again. "More sorry than you could ever know. I... I don't know how to be without you. I think about you all the time, and I... And then I think about how I treated you, and how you didn't deserve _any_ of it, and I _hate_ myself for causing you such pain. I'll understand if you want nothing to do with me, but I'm hoping you could give me a second chance."

"Arthur," Merlin says, squeezing his hand. Arthur freezes and looks at him. The fury seems to have fled, but Arthur isn't sure he likes this despondency that replaced it.

"Yes?" he asks, not daring to move a single muscle.

"I just..." Merlin trails off with a soft sigh. "I'm just not sure how we can make this work. If we can make this work."

And just like that, the pain in his chest is back in full force. "Oh."

"I love you," Merlin says, ducking his head to look at their joined hands. "I love you so much more than I've ever loved anyone, but I don't know if I can see a way forward. You hate m—" Merlin cuts himself off and grits his teeth. "You hate magic."

Arthur knows that it's not 'magic' he meant to say.

"I love you," Arthur insists, gripping Merlin's hand more tightly to keep him from leaving. "I love you so much. I can accept the magic. I _have_ accepted the magic. _Please_ , Merlin."

He meets Merlin's unsure gaze steadily.

"Give me another chance."

Merlin exhales a shaky breath and stares at him for a long while, but in the end, he leans into Arthur, placing his head in the crook of Arthur's neck.

"All right," Merlin says, his breath warm on Arthur's bare skin. It makes him shiver with want. "One more chance. We can give it another go."

"I promise not to make the same mistake again." Carefully, Arthur brings their joined hands up to his heart. He wonders if Merlin can feel just how hard it’s beating against his ribs.

They sit in silence for a little while, content to merely be in each other's presence now that the atmosphere is no longer so taut with tension. Arthur takes advantage of the moment to bury his nose in Merlin's hair and breathe in his scent. He's missed this so much, the easy contact between them. He's missed the touch of another human being.

"I was going to propose," Merlin suddenly pipes up, unaware that his words have Arthur reeling back in shock. He figured as much, but hearing it from Merlin’s own lips is...

"When?" Arthur asks. It's nothing short of a miracle that the words manage to get past the lump that has suddenly appeared in his throat.

"At the restaurant. During our anniversary dinner. Before..."

"Before I started talking about magic," Arthur finishes Merlin's sentence for him, recalling how the conversation stalled after he brought up the topic. "I didn't realise—" he says, on the verge of uttering yet another apology, but Merlin shakes his head and looks up at him.

He's so close that Arthur can see every last flake of gold in his eyes.

"I know," Merlin says quietly. "I just... I'd known for a while how you felt about magic, but having you say it to my face... Well. It doesn't matter now." He shoots Arthur a half-smile. "It's in the past."

"From now on, I'll do my best to be the kind of man you deserve," Arthur vows, wrapping his arm around Merlin and pulling him closer.

Merlin hums in reply, but obediently presses closer, letting his warmth seep into Arthur’s skin the way it hasn’t in such a long time.

They'll be all right, Arthur just knows it. His only priority right now is to get Merlin back to their flat—their _home_ —where he can spend the rest of life making these few months of misery up to him.


End file.
